Chapter 9 - The Truth UnveiledBefore Sebastian could process the staggering revelation, the secure terminal on Harrison's desk chimed with an incoming video transmission.
The screen blinked to life, illuminating the dark office in a sharp, bluish glow.
The face of Judge Thomas Miller filled the monitor—an elderly man with cold, piercing eyes, silver hair combed back meticulously, and an expression of absolute, unyielding authority.
"Well, well, well," Judge Miller's voice echoed through the office speakers, calm, calculated, and dripping with arrogance. "It appears my chief administrator is entirely incompetent. Fancy letting a common street thug walk right into our archives."
Sebastian stepped up to the desk, his eyes locked onto the camera lens with the fury of a caged animal.
"Miller," Sebastian growled. "You're dead. You and every single person who touched my family seventeen years ago."
Judge Miller let out a low, patronizing chuckle. "Is that right, Mr. Moretti? You think you hold all the cards because you recovered a few old digital files? Let me enlighten you about the boy currently sleeping in your arms—Baby Boy Miller, as your hospital charts so quaintly call him."
My blood ran cold. I turned my head sharply toward the incubator blanket draped over Sebastian's jacket where the baby lay resting.
"What are you talking about?" I demanded, stepping forward.
Judge Miller smiled coldly on the screen. "Clara Miller, the young mother who abandoned that infant in your NICU tonight? She isn't just some random troubled teenager, Nurse Evans. She is my granddaughter. And the child she gave birth to..."
The judge paused for dramatic effect, his eyes glittering with malice.
"...is your grandson, Sebastian."
The room spun.
I grabbed the edge of the mahogany desk to steady myself, my mind refusing to comprehend the sheer, twisted geometry of what the judge was saying.
"You're lying," Sebastian whispered, his voice trembling for the first time all night. "My son... my son died in that fire seventeen years ago."
"Did he?" Judge Miller replied smoothly. "Or did I pull him out of that burning ward just in time, recognizing the sheer, stubborn bloodline of the Moretti name? I didn't destroy him, Sebastian. I adopted him out into my own family line under a sealed trust. Clara is your son's daughter. That baby in your arms... is your great-grandson."
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The silence in the office was absolute. The humming of the computer tower sounded like a roaring jet engine in my ears.
Sebastian looked down slowly at the infant sleeping peacefully against his chest—the tiny hands, the faint birthmark behind his left ear—features that mirrored his own reflected in the glass.
